The home of my dreams is immaculate, clean;
An abode where the rooms are all fresh and pristine.
Free of all manner of cluttery hoards,
Like these that I've pinned on my Pinterest boards:
But when I was blessed with my bundles of joy,
It so happened that I received multiple boys.
Boys expertly generate dirt and debris
And couldn't care less where they aim when they pee.
So as far as a house that is lovely and gleaming?
It appears that I'll just have to keep up the dreaming.
'Cause the bedrooms are strewn with shirts, pants, and socks
And my counters are littered with wrappers and blocks.
The carpet, at one time, was kind of okay
But now all the beige is more of a gray.
With streaking and stains and dark patches galore
Thanks to the kids spilling crap on the floor.
And my bedroom? I'd love it all spruced-up and tidy,
But the presence of children and pets is too mighty.
The bed's stripped down right now, and I'll spare you the deets;
Let's just say somebody peed on my sheets.
Lest we forget, or blame it all on the kids,
Check out what my non-clean-freak husband just did.
He trimmed up his face-pubes all over the sink
Then "cleaned" it by "rinsing" (so he seems to think):
For the next eighteen years I'll be scrubbing and sweeping
And looking at Pinterest and bitterly weeping
It's pointless to wish, with the fam's constant sabotage ...
Maybe I'll re-do my decor in camoflage?